Blister in the Sun
by chinchin unicorn
Summary: A summer of ocean and sand. Watching him love someone else. Waiting for when he'll love only me.
1. Pre-Class Assignment

**Blister in the Sun ****Part 1  
**

**For Project Team Beta's Smut University 2014 workshop.  
****Prompt: Pre-Class Assignment**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.  
Unbeta'd: All mistakes are my own. Sorry for my mess. **

**Warnings: Voyeurism and longing. Ultimately will be Edward and Bella but not quite there yet. **

* * *

I see it. When he leans over and kisses her. Their mouths parting in unison as they breathe the salty air before their tongues clash in a wet dance. I can't hear it, but I know she moans when she turns her body just that much more toward him, her hand ghosting up his bare torso, following the lines of his defined body to his neck where she grabs him with tiny fingers, pulling him closer, melting their lips together.

They pull apart, sharing a look, an understanding passing between the two of them. Maybe the others don't see it. Maybe they don't care. Not how his fingers smooth back and forth across her bare back, drawing circles and hearts and tiny little swirls. Or how her legs press together, her hips minutely moving in tandem with every push against her spine.

He lays his arm around her neck, pulling her toward the edges of the crowd, and when they pass, he gives me a smile, and if I'm not mistaken, it's just the tiniest bit brighter than the one he gives her. When Jake leans over, laying a sweet kiss on my cheek, he feels how heated my skin is, how much I burn over that simple look.

"You okay, babe?" he asks.

I nod my head. "Yeah. I'm going to get another beer. You want anything?"

He shakes his head, leaning closer toward Paul and his gang of buddies. "Nah. I'm good."

I leave them, their own little group of misfits, barely fitting into the social crowd. Not like him. Not like how he shines, how everyone looks up to his achievements on the field, in the classroom, in the bedroom. A gentleman they say. There hasn't been many, but the rumors do make their rounds.

"He knows how to love." That one. It makes everyone swoon. Including me.

Instead of heading toward the cooler, I turn the other way down the beach, glancing over my shoulder, looking to see if anyone notices. No one does. No one ever does. Their footsteps are still visible in the sand, close together, dragging at points. I'm sure that's where he pulls her close, kissing her again until she's laughing, moaning, pulling on his hand to, "Hurry."

They've found a secluded area of the deserted beach, the setting sun casting rays of gold across the rocks surrounding them in their own little alcove. His rusted hair almost seems on fire as he pulls her to her knees, the pink in his lips wet with their need as he kisses her in time with the waves hitting the shore just feet away.

She whispers his name, "Edward." And they share another look, another kiss, another moan and sigh as his hand cups her cheeks and then glides down her neck, her shoulders, her stomach, until it disappears beyond the stretch of her bikini bottom.

I know when he touches her. When his fingers glide through her wet. Because she tenses, the moan caught on her lips as her eyes squeeze shut. She lets it all go in a release of air as her hips press forward and back and then forward again.

"Fuck, Edward…" she says. "Don't stop."

His free arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer as he kisses her again, almost desperate in the way his lips slide against her own, across her cheek, down to her chin, biting and sucking on her neck. She grasps his shoulders, steadying her shaking body, her knees wobbling in the sand, as she reciprocates the action, her fingers slow and steady to his hips before moving past the waistline of his swim shorts.

The rock is sharp beneath my flesh, but I hardly even notice the pain. Not as I crawl up it, leaning my bare tummy against the jagged edges, my fingers digging into the crevices, holding on as my breath stops. Her hand moves in his shorts, gripping his length so good that he's moaning against her neck, his hips moving with her dance.

He's quick. Agile and strong. Just like how he is on the field. He sweeps her up into his arms, laying her down onto the sand, pressing between her legs, tugging the colorful fabric covering her breasts to the side. His lips are plump against her nipple, sucking the hard tip into his mouth, leaving wet trails down her body as his shoulders spread her legs even more.

It's hard to see. When he pulls her swimsuit to the side. When his tongue peeks out against her wet. When he sucks and groans and whispers dirty against her unfulfilled desire. So I crawl higher, exposing myself even more to their wandering eyes, just in time to see her grip his rust as her orgasm tears through her body. Her spine arches up from the hot sand, her shoulders anchoring her to the ground as he anchors her hips with his lips.

He releases her with a final suck, leaning back on his knees and the tips of his toes. He's grinning, like he just won the World Cup. "Like that, babe?"

Her giggle is breathless as she lifts her hand, beckoning him with a finger. "Fuck me now, Edward."

I hate how it's her that's turning him on so good. How he follows her commands with a swift nod and quick fingers. How he whispers her name against the golden glow of the setting sun. But all that hate, all that red, all that urge to hurt her and make him mine, vanishes as he drops his swim shorts from where they sit low on his hips. They land in a pile at his knees, a blur of blue against the sand.

And then I see him. Long and thick. Hard and soft. Gleaming with his desire on that perfect mushroomed head as his hand grips himself tight, pumping up and then down. Moaning at the darkened sky as she whines with her impatience.

"Come on already!"

He grins, laughing as he lays his body on top of hers, his hand between their legs, guiding himself into her opening. I can't see her. Not that I want to. But I do see how he disappears. The inches sinking into her wetness as his mouth falls open in a long groan, the soft glow of the sun acting as a glittering backdrop against their spied sin.

"Alice." He sighs against her skin, kissing her everywhere he can. I hate it. I wish it were me. That I was the one beneath him, taking him in, pleasing him so good that he's left breathless, the sweat pooling on his flesh as he thrusts toward that completion, whispering my name into the air. "Bella. Bella. Bella."

I can't help it. When my fingers find myself. Wanting and needy beneath my own swimsuit. Weeping at the sight of his dick so perfect in its conquer of her body. I glue my lips together, fighting for air through my nose, as I trap the moans that want to escape.

He's slow and gentle, enough for me to see how he glistens in the setting sun when he pulls away from her body. Her grip. Her fingers on his ass. Her pussy clenching so tight. I know this. He tells me with closed eyes. "Fuck! Fuck! You feel so good, babe. So fucking tight."

That grip. It sends him into a frenzy. His hips pushing and pulling. Now faster and harder. The sand flies with their dance, surrounding them in a halo of desert storm. Her moans the thunder. His groans the lightning. The swirl of my fingers as the secret in the wind.

He's on his knees again, hooking her legs over his arms, bending her body until his palms are flat on the sand. He pounds so good into her that she falls. I can hear her cries, but they don't really register in my mind. Not with his back tensing. His head thrown to the sky. His eyes squeezed shut so tight as his lips fall apart.

He's out of her. His dick in his hand as he finishes what he started in the cool night air. His desire bursts from him in long strands of white. One and then two and then three. Painting her stomach, her breasts, the underside of her collarbone. It leaves me breathless with how much comes from him. With how much I want him to claim me just like that. I fall from the rocks, reaching my own end, unable to help the little whisper of my own desire that escapes from my lips.

"Fuck, Edward…"

His head rights itself. His eyes slowly opening, revealing the satiated dark greens beneath hooded lids. The pink in his lips tilt into that crooked grin of his as he comes down from his high. He meets my gaze. Just for a second as he goes to look down at the whimpering girl beneath him.

If he looks up again, he's not quick enough to see me spying before I've ducked down, pressing my back against the rock, covering my mouth with sticky fingers as my breath escalates even more so, my heart just a tiny bit behind it, my pussy still crying with its satisfaction, seeping through my suit, smearing along my thighs.

"You okay?" she asks.

He's silent for just a moment. "Yeah. We should get back."

I wait. Listening as they fix themselves. Righting their swimsuits. Brushing the sand from their bodies. Her slap against his skin and the squeal that soon follows, "Edward! My hair!"

He laughs, pulling her along, until his voice is just an echo in the ocean breeze. "Worth it though, right?"

* * *

**Gonna try and make a short story out of all these homework prompts this summer. Should be fun. Weekly updates. Check out PTB's Smut University 2014 for some good times. **


	2. Action and Reaction

**Blister in the Sun Part 2**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: Action and Reaction by LC Morgan aka Jonesn**

**Warnings: Some Jake and Bella semi-loving, but mostly pining for Edward. Continuation of Part 1, but it can be read as a one-shot...I think...pretty sure...**

* * *

The bonfire sends sparks flying from its furious middle. They've added too much wood, too much alcohol, too many bad choices to care that the flames are dangerously close to their frail skin. He holds her a safe distance away, his arm wrapped so casually around her waist as she leans her head delicately on his shoulder.

Jake grips my hips harder, his lips wrapping around my nipple as he grunts his satisfaction against my flesh. He drives upward so hard that I have to grab onto the back shelf of the car before my face can ram into it.

"God, Bella," he says, his breath too hot for the small space. He'd found me when I'd returned from my rendezvous of voyeurism, his dark eyes laughing and needy as he grabbed my hand, tugging me into the backseat of his car.

"I want you," he'd said, pulling me on top and pushing my swimsuit aside where I was already smeared and so sensitive. "Fuck, babe. You're so wet for me."

I wanted to say that I wasn't, that I hadn't just came spectacularly with him on my mind, that I'd been watching, hoping, fantasizing of another boy, another dick pushing into me so good. But I didn't. I never do. I hide so meticulously behind this façade I've woven, loving secretly, pining for a boy who I've known for almost as long as I've been alive, because we didn't do that. Fall in love with our best friends.

Jake's fingers tangle through my hair as he pulls my head down. His lips taste like the beer he'd drank earlier, stale on my tongue as he swirls it around my mouth. It's hard to breathe with how he deep he goes, with how harsh he exhales, with how tight he holds. It's not disgusting. It never is with him. No, the disgusting part of all this is how I compare him to the one that no one could ever compare to. How can I give my heart when it was stolen so many years ago? Instead, all I have to offer is my affection. Isn't that good enough? I already know the answer. It never is.

"Are you close?" he asks, his thrusts picking up so furiously in their pace. I just know the car is rocking, groaning on its wheels, subtly calling the attention of everyone in the immediate area. There's a few of us left. A few of us playing around in the dark against a backdrop of red flames and a moving shore.

But we're all too intoxicated, fueled by the mistakes of decisions made on too-young minds, but we don't know that. We're on top of the world. Graduation is behind us and the world is in front of us. Just barely eighteen and we're ready to conquer, ready to live, ready to say goodbye to everything and everyone we know as we set about into our future.

"Come on, babe," Jake whispers, his voice urgent, trembling, desperate against my skin. "Come for me."

But he holds me back. With his eyes of green like our home where he's held me just like he holds her. Where my hand finds his familiar. Where our whispers of what's to be secretly hides in the corners of our childhood walls. Where I'm the most happy because of all the places in the world that's where I find him waiting for me with only the sounds of the waves nearby as our song. How could I ever leave the one place that brings me joy? That fills my heart?

Jake's fingers dig into my skin even more so now. I can feel him. Inside of me. Pushing against my walls as he races toward that finish. The sweat rolls down the side of his face, smearing against my cheek. "Fuck! I'm going to come!"

My friend. My best friend. He twirls her around, her hair spinning in a gentle arch as a smile blooms across her face when he pulls her back into his arms. The kiss he gives her, small and tender and filled with so much adoration, is the complete opposite of the one Jake gives me to muffle his groans as he spills himself so hot inside of me.

"I love you, Bella," he says against my neck as his fingers trace patterns across my back, following each bump of my spine as his breaths slowly begin to even out. Does he notice how my heart doesn't race? How my breaths are deep compared to his? I hope not because of all of the hearts in the world, I don't want to break his.

His hands tremble as I nod my head, and though I try so hard, opening my lips and forming the words, I can't bring myself to say them. Not tonight. Not with him so close, glancing over, that wicked smirk making an appearance on his face. Our eyes meet, but I can't tell if he truly sees me through the dark. Of how I watch him. Of how I love him. Of how I ache for that tender kiss so badly.

"Bella?"

"You too, Jake. You too." He sighs, and it almost breaks me at how he so easily gives in to my less-than feelings for him. But he hopes, he wishes, he sticks around for that maybe-one-day where we'll be equals, not where one is all consuming and the other is only half-way in.

Jake drives me home, and after I wash our indiscretions and the beach from my body, quietly taking care of my needs, mindful of my sleeping parents nearby. When I'm so clean that I can almost forget about a touch that wasn't his, I climb into the tree house between our homes. The waves dance against the shore, creating a melody of soft through the peeling paint of the interior. It's in that bleached green that we wrote our secrets and wishes which have faded and peeled along with their dwellings over time.

It's torturous watching him be with other girls who are not me, but how do you transition from best friend into lover? How do you attempt that without risking the friendship that you know you couldn't live without? No, my place is here, with my own mind, my own imagination, pretending it's me and not them.

It's my hand that he would grab, that gentle tilt of his lips pulling me in so deep as the fire dances in his eyes. He'd say, "Just follow me."

I'd say, "Always."

And the air would swirl in my ears, the wind against my face, the rush making my eyes water as my grin bursts with the laughter flowing from my mouth as he twirls me around with only the red glow from the flames to light our way. And when the earth seemed so unsteady on its axis, when my balance depended so precariously on him, he'd pull me into his arms, sweeping me up against his chest as he whispers his affection into my skin.

First against my neck where my pulse beats so rapidly, then against my cheek where I'm already so flushed with the exhilaration he brings me, and finally against my lips where I readily await his taste, so sweet against my tongue as we share an entirely different dance all together.

It hurts down below, where I'm pulsing with my thoughts, and it's strange how I could be turned on so good by a simple kiss that has never even happened more than by my boyfriend's touches from earlier this night. I can't help it when I find myself on my back, staring at the wood with our names carved into it in jagged letters. My fingers are too small, too cold, too smooth against my wet flesh, but they've been my constant companion these last few years when he has occupied my mind.

I dip and swirl and press against that bundle of nerves near the top, just like we would dance in front of the bonfire, knowing my body better than the only boy who has ever touched me. I hold my sighs back, knowing that the walls of this tree house are so easily broken into by sound. But it's my breaths, harshly inhaling and exhaling through my nose and then my mouth when I can't seem to get enough air, that echoes so loudly against the wood. And when I push one finger and then two inside, re-familiarizing myself with dips and curves and textures hardly ever explored, my worlds fades around me, right along with the peeling green walls, replaced by brilliant verdant so dark above me.

His hands would be gentle on my skin, but hard enough to move, reposition, manipulate me into what feels amazing. His fingers against my thighs with my calves on his shoulders. Pressing into my hips while my knees and palms press into the wood below. Holding me still as he thrusts up, driving himself deeper into me as I stare down. Pushing my knees higher so that my ankles cross together against his lower back as he slides against my front with his hips so slowly bringing us to completion. His face right there, parallel with mine, our eyes searching each other's, finding that love, as we share a kiss just before falling over that edge.

The air is salty on my tongue as I gasp for it, trapped in my throat, my body tensing, my legs stretching, my back arching as everything feels so good. His touch from his fingers, his palms, his lips, ghost over my skin, forcing a feel-good tremble from my body as I shake with my satisfaction, my desire, because even just the made-up version of his loving makes me feel alive. I barely remember to pull my sticky fingers from my shorts as I roll onto my side, gliding my wetness against the wood where I lay. That's how he finds me, his steps gentle against the ladder as his head pops in through the door.

He's hardly visible through the gentle moonlight, but I know it's him. "Edward?"

"Hey. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just drifting off." If only he knew the kind of drifting I was just doing.

"Cool." He smiles as he crawls over, closing the distance between us, his arm wrapping over my shoulders and grabbing at my musky hand. He smells clean, like the soap he's been using since the start of high school, and I'm glad that he's washed her off of him, and then with minty breath, he says, "Goodnight, Baby Bell."

I whisper back, "Night, Eddie Boy."

He holds me for a second longer and I think that he' going to kiss me, even if it is just on my cheek, and then, just like I know it will always be him, he pulls away, rolling onto his side with sleepy eyes closed tight. One day and one day soon, this boy I love is going to leave me behind.


	3. Right Amount of Spice

**Blister in the Sun Part 3**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: The Right Amount of Spice by kitchmill**

**Warnings: Some Jake and Bella and Edward-pining again and a whole lot of oops.**

* * *

We're going to the beach again. Where the sand is smooth and the familes are sparse and it's mostly unofficially reserved for partying teenagers. To soak in the sun's ray. To turn pink instead of brown. Well at least I do. I never did tan well. Not like Jake. Not like _him_. Golden brown just like the sand where the waves kiss the shore. No, I blister if I'm not too careful. If I avoid the sunscreen and the shade. We've had so much beach in the few weeks since graduation that I'm a constant red.

I don't want to go, but Jake does. He begs and begs and begs. Sam wants to try surfing. Paul needs more beer. Edward is asking about you. Until finally I relent, pulling on my swimsuit as he runs his hands and lips over my naked skin, whispering, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I'm not sure if the goose bumps are from his touch or the air conditioning making everything inside just a little too cold.

"On second thought," he says, throwing me onto my sheets. "Maybe we should stay here."

I push at his shoulders, laughing and weak as his kisses drown any sort of hesitation in me. I like these moments. When it is me and Jake and no one else. Too often that boy next door is in my mind, teasing me with his smile, his touch, his nonexistent words. But when he isn't, I can be a real girlfriend, a good girlfriend. That's what he deserves after all. So I let him take me, make me moan, shiver, come on my bed sheets, and when our breaths even out, he pulls me from the bed where we share one last kiss, clean up our mess, and leave for a sunny day of sand and ocean.

It's nice having the wind roll through the open window, blowing back my hair as he draws pictures across my hand with his thumb. And for once, I feel like a normal girl. Like a girl who hadn't given her heart to her best friend. Like a girl who isn't settling for second best with a great boy. Like a girl who is young and carefree and living life as she should be.

But then I see him. His arm wrapped around her petite as they run in a wave of glittering sea. Her scream of joy is audible through the distance that separates us, and I hate it. How they look so buoyant, and suddenly, all that happy of the average girl just disappears. I pull my hand from Jake, He glances over, and I just know he sees what I see. Him and her. Frolicking like they were the only two people in the world to each other.

His frown replaces his grin. Do we ever frolic? Do we ever play? I don't even know.

"Bell!" he shouts when he sees me, waving his arm through the air, drops of ocean falling across both of them.

"Let's go say hi." I don't even give Jake a choice. He follows as I head down toward the shore.

"Fine."

"Hey, Eddie."

"Where've you been? It's already almost three."

I blush. He gives me that smirk. It's like he can read my mind of dirty and dicks and wet oohs and ahhs. "We were running a little late."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Alice grabs onto his arm, her little fingers barely able to wrap completely around his muscle. "Eddie. I like that."

He laughs and so do I. He hates it. He knows it. I know it. But I still call him that. Because we're best friends and have been for almost ever. "Sorry, babe. Only Bell gets to call me that."

"Oh." We all notice the pretty little frown she gives him.

"Don't be sad," he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and swinging her in watery circles until she's laughing. "I've got no choice in the matter. She's my best friend."

She looks over, and I'm can't sure, but I think there's a sort of rage in her eyes when she does, but then she's grabbing his neck, pulling him down until their lips are meeting. That's when Jake pulls me away, and I follow willingly. There are some things I can only handle so much of.

It isn't until just before the sun is about to set when I see them again. I should have known better. Twilight seems to be their thing as he kisses down her neck until he's worshipping the lines on her stomach, his fingers continuing past, diving in where she's wet and needy for him, touching until she's moaning so loud.

He whispers, "Fuck, you're beautiful."

She replies on a sigh, "Edward, I love you."

I run away as fast as I can before I can hear what he says back.

I find Jake, or rather, Jake finds me, walking along where the sand and ocean meet. I sink where the waves take the beach away from me, and I almost half wish they would take me away as well. What did he say to her? I shouldn't have run. But could I have handled it? Hearing his love for another girl?

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just taking a break from all the partyness."

He smiles and he actually is very handsome, especially here underneath the moonlight. Would Edward be jealous? To see his best friend whispering words of love to another boy? Somewhere, deep inside of his heart, does he care for me, love me, as much I care for him, love him?

"Yeah. It was getting a bit crazy back there, huh?"

I smile, taking his hand and pulling him along. I should let him do what Edward did to Alice. Let him pull me to the sand. Let him put his lips, his fingers, his tongue on my skin. It's what a good girlfriend would do, right? Lay on the shore, our legs tangled in the water as our tongues dance against lips wet with salt. He'd whisper words into my ear as my fingers dip below his waistline, pushing his shorts down until the top of his rear is visible to the glittering white light.

We'd push and pull in the wide open area, drunk on alcohol and the touches of each other until he kisses down, past my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, and then my tummy as his fingers dance along my waistband before diving deeper against where I call him, rubbing and stretching until I'm moaning out my desire.

It's what a good girlfriend would do, so I stop, pulling him into my arms. He dips his head, so I stand on my tiptoes until we're kissing, sweet and soft with the water playing at our feet. I lead him with my lips to our knees where he sweeps me off my legs, laying me onto my back, his fingers digging into the sand near my head as he covers my body with his.

"I want you," I whisper against his open mouth.

"What? Right here?"

"Yeah."

The smile he gives me could rival the one of the moon it's that magnificent. "Okay."

His lips are soft against my neck as his fingers are gentle on my breasts, tugging my bikini aside, rubbing where I'm already so hard. For him. This boy. Who deserves my everything. And for the first time I think maybe I can give it to him. Maybe I can love him like he loves me. After all, with the way Edward looks at Alice, with the way he smiles and touches and whispers in her ear, he'll never be mine. But this boy can be.

"Touch me, Jake."

"Fuck," he whispers, slipping even further down—though I'm not sure if he meant to say it out loud—until his hot breath warms the lines on my stomach, but then he's kissing me with his tongue, the slippery wet drawing pictures across my skin, and I don't care. He can say whatever the fuck he wants. Especially with his fingers pushing aside the band so close to where I'm aching so much. They slip down past my skin and into flesh that sighs with his touch.

First swirling so delicately where I'm so sensitive and then dipping into where I'm so hot. Curving perfectly as if he's beckoning right at that spot, pushing against the bumpy sponginess that makes me scream his name because it feels that good. Maybe he is beckoning. Calling for me to find my completion. To fall against all this pleasure he gives to me.

He glances up through hooded eyes and long eyelashes, the desire flashing across all that darkness. And for a second, just a brief second, I see green instead of brown. And I hate and yet love how even now he can't leave me alone while I'm loving another boy.

"I love you, Bella," he says, but his breath catches at the end, and what I hear is, "Bell."

And that's all that it takes—that and the briefest second ever—as I lift my hips up and down in time with his thrusts where his fingers are so loud against my wetness, my moans lost in the humid night air. Or at least I wish they were because when I finally do come, gushing against his hand, it's _his_ name and not Jake's I say.


	4. Like A Virgin

**Blister in the Sun Part 4**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: Like A Virgin by Chocaholic**

**Note: Sorry for the wait. Vacation and moving country. Life's been fun -_-**

**Warnings: Jasper steps in Jake's place. Will Bella ever learn? **

* * *

It hurt more than I thought it would. I mean…I knew it would. I may not have given him my whole heart, but he did own a piece no matter how small it was. And when he threw himself from me, his eyes blazing but not at all surprised, I just knew it. That whatever we had was over.

I reached for him, across the sand. As if he would come to me. As if he would forgive me. "Jake…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He stood, his hands sticky, his forehead beady with sweat. "I think I've known. I think I've always known."

When he turned and walked away, leaving me alone on the shore with the tempered beat of the waves as the only sound to my falling tears, I'd never truly felt so alone. And it hurt. It hurt to know that I'd failed him. That I couldn't be the girl he wanted me to be. Couldn't give him the love he deserved. That I was forever enslaved to a boy who wouldn't reciprocate what I feel for him. I suppose that's my punishment. It always has been.

I've come to accept it. Even when he held my hand in the green tree house, listening to the waves beat the sand with their endless drumming beat, whispering that he would never abandon me, he would never leave me. It was lies. One day and one day soon, we'll all leave this small town, say goodbye to what we've known for so many years, and start a new life. Because that's what happens when you grow up.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks me, his eyes meeting my own in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah…"

Alice sighs. I can see her frustration in the corner of my eye, but I don't acknowledge it. She hates me more than ever now. I would if I were her. Hate me that is. If someone else, a girl no less, took the attentions of my boyfriend away from me, her and I wouldn't exactly be friends.

"She's fine, Edward."

"Are you sure, Bell? We don't need to go?"

I shake my head at the same time Alice says, "What? This is Rose's goodbye party! You know she's leaving for college early!"

"It's okay—"

"Ali!"

She twists around in the front passenger seat until her angry face is facing me. "He's found someone new! It's time you did too! Stop crying over him!"

"Alice!" He nudges at her until she turns back around, flopping into her seat. "Fuck!"

"Come on, Edward! You can't comfort her forever!"

I hear her. Loud and clear. I know what she's really saying. "Find a new boy and stop trying to steal mine."

"She's right, Eddie."

"Bell…we can go back. Drop Alice off and go back to the house."

"No. It's your summer too. I don't want to take that away."

He's silent for the longest time, contemplating my words as we pull onto the sand, the bonfire just barely visible off in the distance. He waits for Alice to leave, the sand flying up behind her with the rush of her flip flops, before he grabs my hand, his fingers so strong around mine, and for just the briefest second my heart rate spikes as we stand in the semi-darkness, surrounded by abandoned cars.

With the way he's looking at me, it's like he'll kiss me, or that could be the shadows playing tricks on my eyes. But then he speaks. "You tell me when, and we'll leave."

So I push him toward his girlfriend. "Go. Have fun." And then follow his footsteps to the crowd. There's a hush as eyes flit back and forth between me and Jake and the girl on his lap, but when we don't do anything, it dissipates as fast as it appeared.

He waves. "Hey, Bella."

So I copy it. "Hi, Jake."

I wish I could tell him thank you for keeping my secret, but I don't because it still hurts to see him with someone new so fast, so I walk away, and end up by the shore where so much heartache has already happened. I stomp at the waves, imagining that my kicks deliver as much pain as I've felt, as if the ocean shudders with each hurtful gesture. That's how he finds me. Stewing in my own anger.

"You okay, Bella?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I just thought you would like a friend. Edward is with Alice, and it must be hard to see Jake with Ness."

"Is that it, Jasper? You want to be my friend?"

He watches as the tears glitter down my cheeks, and for a second, I see compassion in those eyes as blue as the sea before the normal boy returns. "Yeah."

His arm is heavy on my shoulders, dewy with the humidity and his own sweat, but I don't move from it, because it does feel nice. To have a boy look at and touch me when the only ones who own my heart are looking and touching other girls. To feel needed. To feel loved. Even if only for my body because there's no pretending why Jasper is standing here with me. And I react. My body does. In the way it tightens. Even though I know I shouldn't. That I should push him away and tell him to go find another lonely girl to fuck. But I don't. Maybe this is me being self-destructive. Maybe this is me unable to move on. Maybe this is me turning my pain into physical pleasure. What the fuck ever.

"Okay."

He smiles and it's beautiful against the moonlight. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He leads me further down the shore until the bonfire is only a lit match in the distance, the sounds of the music blasting from car stereos a whisper on the wind. "How is it? Seeing Jake with someone else? It's only been a few weeks."

I stop so that he has no choice but to pivot on his feet and face me or risk leaving me behind. He's confused at first, but the way I grab at his arms, wipes that confusion away.

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"But—" I kiss him before he can finish whatever he has to say. He doesn't fight it because we both know why he sought me out in the first place. He wants to take advantage of my loneliness. I want to take advantage of his neediness. We're perfect for each other.

"Fuck, Bella," he whispers, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks. "Do that again. With your tongue."

So I do and it brings him to his knees. He drags me down with him until he's over me on the sand, the waves ticking our feet. His kisses are sloppy down my neck, his tongue wet against the salt on my skin.

"Jasper?"

"Yeah?"

"This can't be more than this."

He pulls away, and I don't like it, so I tug on his arms until he's between my legs, his hardened goodness pushed up so sweetly against where I ache to be comforted. "Hey. I get it. We can just have fun."

I search his eyes even as his hips press forward and then back and the forward again, over and over, making everything so hazy around me. "Okay. Fuck me, boy."

He falters, his hips losing their rhythm as he hands tremble against my arms. "You want to fuck?" he asks as if he's surprised I want more.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Make me ready."

He pulls my swimsuit away, his tongue making friends with my nipple, and it feels good, but it isn't what I want. I guide his hand down until his fingers press tentatively against where my wetness is growing. "No, down here."

"Okay…" he whispers, his voice almost breathy as he fumbles his way past the elastic waistline. "Like this."

"Jasper?"

"Does this feel good, babe?"

It does, but… "Jasper?"

"I can do this…"

"Hey!" I grab his face until he's even with mine, and his eyes are clouded with apprehension. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just—"

"Don't lie to me."

"I've done stuff with girls…"

"Jasper."

"I've just never gone all the way."

His fingers freeze right along with my heart as I gape at him. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

"Do you really want to do this? With me? Here?"

"Are you asking if a teenage boy wants to have sex with a scantily-clad girl on the beach?"

I smile. "I guess that does sound silly."

"I'm just nervous is all."

I push him until he's on his back and I'm above him, straddling his waist. "Don't be."

"Bella…"

"Let me show you."

He's not as hard anymore, his fear having deflated his arousal, so I pull down his shorts and wrap my fingers around his flesh. He moans, pushing his head against the sand as I stroke him back to where he was before. It's almost…adorable…in the way he moves so innocently. He's not innocent. Far from it. I've heard of his activities in bed from Maria Conner. But he's still a virgin. And that makes this all just the tiniest bit special. Like he needs me. More than I need him. And for some reason that turns me on so fucking bad.

"Bella…"

"Does that feel good?"

"Yeah."

I raise above him, pulling my bottoms to the side, just enough so that he can slide into me. It's almost instantaneous in the way he grabs my hips and pulls me down, his back arching away from the sand as his heels dig in deep.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" And there's no mistaking what's happening. With his eyes closed tight. His fingers almost bruising my skin. His body shaking and tense all the same time. His jizz coating my inside.

"Was that nice?"

I can't tell if his cheeks are red with how good just came or how fast. "Fuck, Bella. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Jesus. I just…fuck! I didn't even wait for you."

I laugh and he winces so I smooth his worried forehead with my fingers, kissing away the red on his cheeks. "Don't worry about it. You can make it up to me."

He's silent for just a moment. "Make it up?"

"They say practice makes perfect, right?"

"Right."

He laughs as his body relaxes. Well all of him except for that part down there. That part, still buried so deep inside of me, just tenses harder and harder until we're both ready for more. Until green eyes are erased from my mind. Until Jake no longer looks at me with hurt. Until I can't see any other kisses besides the ones Jasper gives me. Until I forget about everything else in the world besides the way he moves beneath me, his moans and fingers and tongue selfish in the way he's determined to make me sees stars before him.

He fails. And he does the third time too. But by the time the sun rises over the horizon and what's left of the bonfire is just a smoky haze and the sleeping bodies of our friends litter the beach along with the empty red solo cups, he has me muffling my stars into my hand. Smiling his delight. Whispering, "Fucking finally." Before he follows me into oblivion.


	5. UST

**Blister in the Sun Part 5**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: UST and the Art of a Slow Burn by Hoodfabulous**

**Warnings: Cheating and heartbreak.**

* * *

I hear them when I walk through the door. Well, I hear her. She's shouting so loud, so fast, so angry, that I can hardly make out any of her words, but it seems the important ones are there, hanging in the air, as I grip onto the cool wood.

"Just tell me the truth, Edward!"

"What do you want me to say, Alice?" His voice is quiet but strong as it echoes down the stairs.

"There's something going on between you two! I just know it!"

"She's my best friend. You knew that. A year ago. When I asked you out."

She laughs as if she has all the bitter in the world on her shoulders. "That was before I knew."

"Fuck, Alice!" He sounds edgy now as if he's about to reach his breaking point. "We're friends. That's it. It's like you want there to be something more!"

This time, with her whisper so low, I can't be sure with what I hear, but I swear it sounds a lot like, "You might not feel anything for her, but I can guarantee, she feels something for you."

And the panic in my heart tightens it so hard that it's painful. It's hard to breathe, and everything begins to spin as I hold onto the door with precarious fingers.

"Alice," he says, and I can only imagine him, shaking his head, tired fingers running through wild beach-kissed hair. "Please. Don't do this."

"You're so stupid." He moves, and then there's the sound of lips and tongues so soft, so wet, with these tiny murmurs, whispered under bated breaths, all desperate and needy, and three little words, I pretend I don't hear.

I slam that door with more force than necessary. The frame vibrates with my fury. Or maybe it's my misery. The tears making their way down bronze-burnt cheeks tell me it's the latter.

"Bell?" he calls down, his voice cracking with all the problems on his shoulders. "Is that you?"

"Yeah." I try not to let the tears come through, to show how he unknowingly breaks my heart. I'm sure I fail, but his own failure is probably too much for him to see beyond. "I wanted to help set up."

"Thanks!" he yells, his voice muffled as if he's pressing his face against his girlfriend's heart. "We'll be down in a second."

I use that second to wipe away the wet on my cheeks, but my dry skin and the red in my eyes can be blamed on too much salt, too much sun. I know. I've done it before. So that when their footsteps on the stairs echo in my ears, I'm not worried that he'll catch me crying. When he rounds the corner, his sad green eyes seeking me out, he doesn't notice anyway.

"Hey, Bell."

"Eddie. You ready? Everyone's excited for tonight."

"Yep. Party of the summer, right?" he says, walking by, briefly setting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah. It's going to be awesome." He doesn't notice the way my voice deflates as his fingers slip from my skin with his departure into the kitchen…but Alice does.

She stares at me like a girl with her heart in her eyes, and for a moment, we understand each other. "He's so stupid."

That's when I know. Her and I? We're more alike that we want to admit.

Jasper finds me when the alcohol is flowing strong and the beat of the music flows through my veins, jumping with each pulse through the speakers. His hands pull me from the crowd of sweat and grind, his lips hushing the protest trying to escape my mouth.

"I'm not done with you yet, babe." He smiles against the kiss."Let's fuck here." The hall is empty, the dark of the night creeping in on our young bodies, with the shadows of the other party-goers walking along the edges of the light. We never truly understand the consequences of our actions until it's too late.

All that practice, all that loving behind closed doors, on my bed, in his car, warm on the beach, swaddled in sand and ocean salt, always has his fingers turning me to putty because that's how good this ex-virgin has become, but I can't. "Wait, Jasper…"

"Come on, babe," he says between his kisses. "Let's do this. I'll make it good. You know I will."

I do, but it doesn't seem right, in this house with too many memories of my heart and I, so I shake my head, refusing his advances. "Not tonight, Jasper."

He whines and his desperation is almost cute. "Bella, I'm so horny right now." I push him, watching as he stumbles on his feet, the little pout curving his eyebrows down. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, kissing those lines across his brow away. "I'm just not up for it tonight."

"But why?"

I laugh at the clueless look he gives me and nudge him toward the party. "I'm sure there's plenty of girls here looking for a good time."

And the look he gives me reminds me of that night on the beach where he was so unsure, so scared. "But—"

"Don't tell me that you—self-proclaimed sex-extraordinaire—is scared?"

The way he squares his shoulder almost makes me laugh out loud with how determined he is. "No."

"Then go rock someone's night."

He smirks then, kissing my cheek, turning on his feet after a final, "Fine."

Edward finds me then, handing me a cup of something that burns its way down my throat. "Having fun, Bell?"

"Yep. You?"

"Fucking great." But the way he chugs his drink tells me he's not.

"What's the matter, Eddie?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

I lay my hand on his arm, giving him that look. "Edward Cullen."

He laughs, taking a swig of his beer, and shaking his head. "Alice."

"What's going on?"

"We're fighting."

"I'm sorry." I try to be, but I'm not really. "About what?"

He looks at me then, his green eyes swirling with so much. So much thought. So much contemplation. So many hidden feelings otherwise unknown as he steps closer, his body brushing mine, his head dipping as I rise onto my tippy toes on instinct to greet him. And for the second time in our friendship, I think he's going to kiss me.

"Nothing," he whispers close to my mouth.

"It's not nothing." And it's like the conversation has shifted. Like suddenly we're talking about something else. Like he's asking me a question with his eyes and his lips and his body pressing forward so subtly. It's hard to remember Alice, but I know I can't be that girl with him, so I step away before we do something we'll both regret. "But I'll let you have your secrets."

"Thanks, Bell." We clink our drinks together.

"You should find her." It kills me to say it, but he's still hers, no matter how much I wish it weren't true.

"What?" He seems genuinely surprised as if he can't believe the words I'm saying.

"She's probably thinking about you as much as you're thinking about her."

He finishes off his beer. "You're right. I'm thinking…about her." And with a smile that I imagine is just the tiniest bit guilty sent in my direction, he's gone.

Without him, even amongst all of my friends and happy memories and sad goodbyes, I can't enjoy it because I know he's finding her to fix what they have when all I want is for that brokenness to be shattered even more. I'm a horrible person, and being here within this innocent good, has the guilt eating at my heart, so I escape up the stairs, seeking for a reprieve from it all. That isn't what I find. Not a solace from the dangerous thoughts. But an answer to my prayer. And I'm not sure if I'm thankful for it or not.

In their haste, they didn't close the door, and their moans and groans and bed-rocking of pleasure can be heard as soon as I reach the second floor. It's like she wanted to be found. To be seen. To be heard. Because they are all that's in my mind. Their naked flesh moving against each other. Alice and Jasper entwined in their own desire, and before I can hide them from the world as they should have done in the first place, he's sees them, sneaking up behind me, his breaths harsh with the tears falling from his eyes.

"Eddie…"

The look he gives me about breaks my heart. "Not now, Bella."

"Edward?"

He turns without another word, disappearing down the stairs. Alice is scrambling, pushing away from Jasper, falling from the bed as she reaches for her scattered clothes, calling out for the boy running away, but it means nothing as I chase after him when she can't.

He's gone up the ladder, hiding within the green. "Edward?"

My only answer is his sobs muffled against the wood. It takes all my energy to ascend, climbing into that tree of childhood now marred by adult's heartache. He refuses my comfort when I join him.

"Not now, Bella."

"Please, Edward," I whisper, grabbing onto his hand, willing his hurt to vanish because now that I have my wish, I hate how it makes him cry, and I wish I'd never made it at all. "Let me help you."

He jerks his head so fast even I'm dizzy, but it's me he glares at. Me he unloads all of that anger on. "You of all people? Now that's stupid."

He's never said a harsh word to me, and now that he has, it breaks my heart. No, it disintegrates it. I glare down at my knees, hoping he can't see my tears in the dark. "I'm sorry."

And I hope he knows just what I'm sorry for.

His hand is warm on my bare shoulder as his body heat surrounds me in the small space. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

I can't look at him, not with my heart flowing from grieving eyes, so I ignore the way his fingers dance across my skin. How they touch and smooth the red burnt in from the sun. How they wrap around, following each bump of my spine downward until where the hem of my tank top ends just inches above my shorts. And the only thing that makes me meet the green in his eyes rather than the faded green on the walls, is his whisper against my cheek where it flows down to warm my neck, sending goose bumps across my flesh both bare and hidden by suddenly unwanted clothes.

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry, Bell."

And that should be the end of it, but the way he traps me on the wall, his hand pressing against wood so close to my face, his lips breathing air against my own, and holy fuck, do I want him to kiss me so fucking bad.

"Eddie…"

"I'm sorry, Bell," he whispers again. "I'm so sorry."

He's there, and fuck if he's so close, and all I want is to close those small millimeters between us and taste him for the first time. But his green eyes are swirling again, and this time they're cloudy with agony. As if he can't see beyond his own heartbreak. As if he can't feel beyond his own pain. As if he searches for something…anything…to make it all better.

And I know, despite my feelings for him, despite the way only he's the only one who can make my heart beat with this rush of excitement, I can't accept his kiss. His loving. Not like this. Not with Alice still on his mind, and her betrayal so fresh against his heart.

"Eddie…wait…"

"Can I kiss you, Bell?"

His breath smells like the alcohol he drank in the house, and though I'm tempted to give in, I push him away. He fights my hands, pressing against my strength. "Eddie, no."

"Please, Bell. Please. I need this."

"Eddie…"

"I need to show Alice…"

"Not like this, Eddie. Not like this."

And then he breaks down, slumps against my body, where he cries his sadness into my shoulder. I hold him like any good friend would do.


	6. Sex-cessories

**Blister in the Sun Part 6**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: Sex-cessories by Helena Hunting**

**Warnings: Teenagers... ;)**

* * *

He's never avoided me before. Not like this anyway. We've had our fights in the past. Him calling me a girl. Me calling him a jerk. Us not listening enough and yelling too much. Because that's what best friends do. We fight and we kick and we scream and we hurt. And after a few days, when the feelings have died down and the red has faded, we come back together. Always together. And that's how you know when you're forever…but what's forever anyway?

Forever is an hour-long lecture that lasts until you're gray all over when summer ends after a blink of an eye. Forever is the pain of scraped skin and blood when a lover's kiss is breath on the wind. Forever is the pain inside the heart of unrequited love when the passion of that first fall is always said to end.

I don't see him. Not the next day or the day after. Not all of him anyway. Just flashes of his hair around the corner. The edges of his clenched-fist disappearing before I can approach. The echoes of his sorry-can't-talk-now as he runs away. It's different this time. The panic that plays across his features and reeks from his body as he escapes my attentions. I won't lie. It hurts to know my best friend might not want to be my best friend anymore because of a silly girl who doesn't understand the true passion of those three little words.

"Why the long face, babe?"

I shake my head. "No reason."

Jasper's arm is heavy on my shoulders, but it's comforting in a way. Like he's taking all these bottled feelings inside and helping me stop them from spontaneously combusting. "Come on. You can tell me."

I smile and kiss his cheek. "Really. It's nothing, but when something does come up, I know I can count on you."

He gives me that grin that makes my knees shake, and I hate how my heart has buried it's way so deep inside of me that there's no more room left for him because I know he would be a good boy to love.

"You know me. That's what I'm good at."

"I know…" My voice dies as his cell phone chirps. He brings it out of his pocket and replies to whatever text came through. "Who's that?"

He rolls his smiling eyes in my direction. "No one special."

"Is it a girl?" I tease. It's weird what we have. Jasper and I. But it works.

"Whatever. You know you're the only girl for me."

"Don't start lying to me now." He laughs, pulling me along through the mall. He hasn't stopped trying to get into my pants. He just hasn't been in them for a while. Not since before the party. Before him and Alice.

"Don't worry about it." I think in a way he understands. That he can see beneath my exterior just like Jake could. That he sees what I see…or who I see. Because though he'll never turn me down, he teases more than seduces now.

"Was it Amber from last week? Or Chelsea from the beach?"

He shakes his head, his lips curiously glued together. "Stop asking."

That's when I know. From his crazy eyes. How the ocean in them tumbles with wild waves as he sweeps his salted hair from his forehead dotting with sweat. The smile he gives me doesn't make my knees shake, but it does make my tummy rumble with unease, so I ask in a quiet voice, "Is it Alice?"

And even over the bustle of the mall. The chat. The kids. The laughter and screams. He hears me, but he doesn't have to say anything. It's the look in his eyes when he swings them back my way that tells me, "Yes."

"What are you doing, Jasper?"

"She keeps texting me."

"It's only been a few days."

"What else can I do?"

"You know she's not over him."

"I can't ignore her. Not her."

"This will hurt Edward."

"I'm sorry."

"Have you slept together? Besides the party that is."

"…yes."

"Jasper…."

"I know, Bella. I know."

"Do you like her? Is that what this is about?"

For a second, it's like I'm looking in a mirror. Like the agony and misery and desperation and hopeless love reflects back to me through his chaotic mess of blue. And then he blinks, but I know better. Just like with sex, I'm more seasoned than he is. He can hide it all he wants, but there's no escaping the hurricane inside. But I know, just like me, he'll never admit it.

"Whatever, man. She's just another lay. Like all the other girls. She means nothing to me."

Another person wouldn't see how his heart cracks just a tiny bit with that. "I know."

Because I really do.

"Hey…let's get something." He tugs on my hand like everything is all right.

"What?"

"Piercings."

"What?!" That has me digging my feet into the ground.

"Come on! It'll be fun. The endorphins will pick us right back up."

Maybe it's the promise of a brief reprieve from the ache inside because I follow that boy right into the shop without looking back once.

It works. For maybe a day. But I won't lie and say I hate it. I actually kind of love it. This metal through my flesh. Though my endorphins are no longer flying, raising my mood, and bringing me to a high of happiness, the ball clicking against my teeth reminds me to lift my spirits when the ache of him brings me down.

Click. Click. Click.

It's that metal tune I nod my head to when I climb the ladder up into the tree a week after. The sun is just beginning to set, turning the faded green to a blinding lime, casting its shadows into the interior of the house, darkening the corners but spotlighting the center. Maybe that's why I don't see him when I climb through the door before swinging it shut. Crawling on my knees across the wood until the sun warms my face with its goodbye kiss.

It's the alcohol I smell first. That strong scent of reeking vodka. And I can't understand it. How something so vile and foreign and dark has entered into this space of childhood happiness. But then there he is, leaning against the wall, hiding in the shadows, his eyes gleaming with undisturbed tears as the liquor sloshes from the bottle and into his mouth.

"Edward?''

"Bella."

"What are you doing?"

He laughs this bitter laugh, wiping spilled alcohol from his chin. "I thought it was obvious."

I swallow my nerves, but they settle in my stomach like a rock. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah…well, when you catch your girlfriend fucking another dude you kind of just want to be alone."

Click. Click. Click.

I want to reach out for him but I dig my nails into the wood instead. "I'm so sorry. You know I'm here for you, right?"

There's that bitter laugh again. "Right. You. Bella. My neighbor. My best friend. You're always there. Right here for me. I can count on you."

It has to be a trick with the way he sings his words, so I answer hesitantly. "That's right. You just need to ask, and I'll do anything."

He sets his bottle down, and for a second I think he'll come to me with his arms open, and then I realize it's empty. "Anything?"

"You know I'd do anything for you, Edward." And in a way, I hate that. How it's so true. How I really would cater to his every need.

He stalks me across the floor of the tree house, slowing sneaking up as I press against the shadows and the wall, wanting to run away, but at the same time exhilarated with the way his eyes seem to darken with every step he takes toward me.

Click. Click. Click.

"Edward…" I say. He lowers his gaze to where my lips are pressed so tightly together.

"What's that?"

"What?"

"Inside your mouth."

I can hardly speak with how his gaze presses so hard against me that my voice comes out in a whisper. "It's just a tongue piercing."

He traps me against the wall within his arms. His palms pressed so near to my face. "Let me see." I show him and he stares so long before cupping my chin with his fingers and cradling my outstretched tongue with his thumb. "When did you get this?"

"A week or so ago."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to."

He smirks. And it's almost like that teasing one he gives girl. Almost. Because there's a sort of darkness to the way his lips tilt. "That's it? You know what they say about tongue piercings, right?"

"What?"

This time it's him whispering right against my ear. "They make everything feel better."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say even though I do.

"I'm sure Jasper loves it." This time the tilt is pure darkness.

"What? Jasper. He doesn't. I mean…we aren't—"

"Don't lie, Bella." I could've sworn his palm smacked against the wood, but it's hard to hear anything outside of my nervous heartbeat in my own ears.

Click. Click. Click.

"We have…but not for a while. We're just friends now."

"So he hasn't felt it?" He sounds almost vulnerable, but it has to be a trick on my ears because his eyes are anything but. "He doesn't know how you can rock his world?"

"No. No one does."

When he speaks, his lips are wet against my cheek. "Do you want to see how good you can make me feel?"

I shake my head. Though I'm not sure if I'm saying yes or no.

"Kiss me, Bella." He's too tall and when I don't reach for him, he bends down until our faces are even. "Don't tell me no this time."

"Edward…I…" It's crazy. How the one thing I've wanted for so long is finally happening, and I can't seem to do anything but stand still. Frozen like a statue. Ice in the middle of all this summer. As he leans closer until he's only a breath away from where I want to escape him. From where I willingly hold myself captive.

Click. Click. Click.

"Bell…" Suddenly he's my boy again. The one who smiles lazy at me. Who holds my fingers at night when I'm scared. Who smudges mud across my face when the rain stops. "Promise me."

"What, Eddie? Promise you what." I know I shouldn't. Not when he's been drinking. Not with his heart so newly broken. But maybe it's that image. Of Jasper and Alice together. Over and over. That has me pressing forward. That she hasn't stopped breaking his heart since that night. That she has thrown aside what they've shared and loved so easily. Because if I give in to him will that mean he can't ever go back to her? I'm not sure if that's what I want for him or for me.

"That this won't change anything." His whisper is so gentle, his eyes so soft, that I can't help it when my hands find his hips, gripping onto his flesh through his clothes. Loving it. Hating it. Because now that I have him, I'm pretty sure I'll die when I have to let him go. "That we'll always be best friends. No matter what."

I wish it were true when I know it's a lie. Because this…this changes everything. After this, we won't be best friends anymore. This is what I've avoided for so long, but how can I resist him with his dark greens and whispering lips? How can I resist when he wants _me_? "Yes. Always. You and me. We're forever."

It's like sunshine. A cool breeze on a hot day. The ocean against too warm skin. The sand between my toes. The smell of coconut and burnt noses and pruned fingertips. That's how he kisses. That's how his lips feel pressed against my own.

"Give me your tongue," he says, and with summer teasing my taste buds, I can't deny him anything, so I press forward, swirling that metal inside of his mouth.

"Fuck…" he groans, his eyes closing as he dives in for, "More."

"Eddie…"

"Bell…more." More tongue. More metal. More swirling. Until I'm loving his mouth and his knees are shaking with his delight. He holds me close, his arms crossed behind my back, pulling me tight against him so that I can feel just how happy the piercing makes him.

He sways on his feet, and everything is blurry for just a second as he twirls us around until his back is pressed the wall. He slowly slides to the floor, bringing me with him, sitting me on his lap as he dips down for another kiss. And I love it. How his hands grab at me. How his hair falls across my face. How his hips shift so desperately because that's what my kiss brings him to.

It's crazy. How _I_ want more. He says I'm rocking his world, but he doesn't know just how much he is rocking mine with his groans of "Fuck" and his pleas of "Yes…yes…Bell…please…just like that." And then this is me wanting more. More. More. More.

So I climb to my knees and drop even lower. Sliding pseudo-leather through metal entrapments and tugging jeans down only just far enough that he's bare to me, that he springs forward with his happiness, with that desperation. I've seen him before. From behind rock. On his knees. With his dick in his hand. Gleaming with perspiration as he pumps himself to completion in the dying sun.

But it's different this way. Up close and personal. His flesh warm against my palm. That gleaming tip so close to my mouth, begging to be pleasured, so I give in again, wrapping my fingers and then my tongue around where he is so hard. And I think he didn't expect I would really do it. Rock his world like this. If his hips bucking up so hard that I have to press him down and his mutters of "Oh my god. Oh my god. Bell! Bell! What? What!" says anything.

I click, click, click right up all that smooth flesh, pressing softly when I'm unsure, and then harder when his groans begin to soar, loving how the metal pulls my own flesh when I push against his. And when he comes, he fills my mouth like a big gulp of ocean that's hard to get down. This tree house longer holds our childhood secrets but our grown up acts of indiscretion.

I cover him back up when his breaths take too long to slow and his eyes close with exhaustion and the sweat cools on his skin. He grabs onto my hand, pressing his thumb into my palm, holding tightly as if that's the only thank you he has the energy for. When he doesn't let go, I pull myself up, my back on the wall, and sit next to him with my thigh pressed to his. I don't want this moment to end. I don't need any beats of metal here.

"Eddie…how did you know?"

"Hm?"

"About the tongue piercing?"

He's silent long enough to where I don't want the answer. "Last year, before her parents made her take it out, Alice had one."

Click. Click. Click.


	7. No Prompt

**Blister in the Sun Part 7**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**This week's lesson was canceled, but since I already had each of my chapters outlined, I figured I'd write it anyway with no prompt. **

**Note: SmutU is over and so is the summer, but I'm still making my way through this. Sorry for the delay. This move hasn't been too easy, but no worries. I have plenty of beaches to inspire me ;) Also, please excuse the rough. Its been a while. **

* * *

No one knows. Looking at us. Mingling amongst all of our friends. Even against the harsh sun where not even a freckle can hide, they don't notice how his fingers linger against my own, the icy cool of the beer bottle steaming away as he passes it from his hand to mine.

That same hand that tears my clothes from my body, holds my hips just high enough, grips me right so that I scream my pleasure into the wood floor. He likes that. When he drives me wild enough I can't hold in my moans. It makes him thrust quicker, slam harder, breathe faster until he can't help himself from pulling out just in enough time to spill his release all over me. Tissues became our best friend in that tree house.

"It's just Edward and Bella," they say when he throws me into the ocean, holding on just a breath longer that what is considered friendly, watching as his touch skims from my waist to right below where his lips make me tingle at night in our green haven. "They've been best friend for like ever."

No one knows. How when he slings his arm around my shoulders, warming my wet skin against the cool ocean breeze, that he holds me just the tiniest bit closer so that the heat radiating from his body almost matches the bonfire recklessly lit at night. That's how it is between us. When he holds me close, our skin slick to the touch, as he slides where it feels so good.

"So hot," he groans into my mouth. "Always so hot."

"It's the wind," I say, shivering only just slightly as his palm rubs against my prickling flesh, burrowing deeper into the nook of his body, mindful of all the smiling faces of our friends around us. "It's giving me goose bumps."

No one knows. Except him. I think he always knew. Those large brown eyes, now turned bitter by so much heartache, follows our dance across the sand. Of how we tease and laugh and pretend to joke about kissing and touching and fucking, smiling secret smiles because we know just how real the kisses and touches and fucks are. He knows—though I guess he can't really be sure unless he hides in the bushes—that we climb that tree between our houses and fumble our way through clothes and low moans. He's always known my that well.

"Bella…"

I can't help the surprise I'm sure that shows on my face. He hasn't talked to me since that night where I said someone else's name while his fingers were buried so deep inside of me. "Jake. What's up?"

"How are you?"

I know that isn't what he really wants to say. I can see the burn in his eyes. "Fine and you?"

He shuffles his feet in the sand, kicking it around him and onto my towel. I don't think he notices, but I don't say anything. Not like I would have before because he knows how much I hate how the sand gets everywhere. It's crazy. Me. Hating sand. A girl who grew up on the beach. But I can't. Not with him and his intensity invading my space.

"So you and Edward, huh?"

I hope I look confused. I don't think I pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"You don't need to pretend around me. You have that look. That sparkle in your eyes."

I don't know what to say, but it doesn't seem right to just say nothing. "I'm sorry."

He laughs, turning heads, and maybe the others see him talking to me, how his body leans in close, how his hands reach for mine, his thumbs rubbing against my palm, and maybe they think we'll get back together.

"You and Jake were so cute together," Angela had told me. "We were all surprised when you broke up." If only they knew how my heart belonged to another.

I step away, pretending to trip, forcing him to let go, but he knows. He always knows. The smile dies from his face as fast as it was put there. "What are you sorry for?"

"Jake…"

"You've got what you wanted. To fuck your best friend."

"Please, Jake," I plead, stepping forward. This time he retreats from me. "Don't do this."

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he stares down at my trembling hands, and when he spits, it's poison. "You know he's not over Alice, right?" So casual. Like it's so true. Like I'd be stupid for believing anything else. Maybe I am.

When he walks away, his hands stuffed in his shorts pocket, that's when I see him. His green eyes flashing with the waves rolling around his knees. He stares as if he's digging holes. As if he wants to probe deep for all the answers to douse the curiosity and fury. I drop my gaze to the chipped pink on my toes because I can't take it. Not when he judges me. Not him. When I look up again, he's staring at her where she sits so casually next to Jasper on the shore, and I can only wonder about what Jake said.

That night when I climb the ladder he's already there, his elbows hanging out the window that used to be too big and is now too small. "Hey," I say, sinking to the floor, my back against the wall, feeling almost as awkward as that second night, where we tiptoed into the tree, terrified of what the other would say after I swallowed him so deep, but unable to resist the temptation for more.

"Hey." He sounds almost wispy, like he's talking wind.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Eddie…" He quirks his head so I know he's listening. "Tell me."

"It's nothing."

"Don't lie."

"I'm just thinking is all."

"You can talk to me. You know this. Just because we…" I blush and I can't really believe that I actually am.

But his words wipe that pink right off my cheeks. "Just because we're fuck buddies doesn't mean you're not my best friend anymore?"

It's a fact, so I don't know why it hurts so much. Maybe it's acid in his voice. Maybe it's all of the above. "Exactly."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging, almost as if he's giving up. "It's nothing, Bella."

When he turns, the moon lights up his eyes, and even in their sadness, they're beautiful. "Edward…"

"Kiss me?"

I shake my head. "Edward…"

"Kiss me, Bell."

I don't know what it is about that name. But every time he says it, I melt. Pathetic, I know, but I can't help it. So I let him kiss me. Even when I see the tears glittering in the moonlight. When he pulls away, I think he'll take me. Like he always does. But he doesn't. He hides his eyes against my neck, his breath drifting across my tender skin.

"Are you and Jake back together?"

"What?" I try to jerk away but he holds on tight.

"That's what they were all saying down at the beach today."

"Would I be here if that were true?"

He's silent for just a moment and it about rips my heart apart. "I don't know."

"Is that what you really think of me?"

He shakes his head, and I pretend I don't feel the wetness dripping down my collarbone. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Jake and I aren't back together and we won't ever get back together."

"Okay…"

"Edward…tell me."

At first I think he won't, but then—because he knows he has no one else to talk to—he says, "Alice texted me."

I hold my breath until my words all come tumbling out at once. "What did she say?"

"She wants to work things out."

"She's still fucking Jasper." I hate it when he flinches, but I hate myself even more for saying those words. I knew it would hurt him, but part of me, that darker side everyone has, can't regret saying anything that would keep him from going back to her.

"I know."

"You do?"

"I saw them together when I was driving. They were parked in his car…not talking."

I hug him then, holding his trembling form against me, whispering into his ear, "I'm sorry, Eddie." Trying to erase whatever naked skin, whatever hurried moves, whatever muffled moans he remembers.

"I don't know what to do."

I don't want to know. I can't want to know. Because his answer could kill me. But I ask it anyway because I think I _need_ to know. "Do you want to get back together with her?"

"Yes. No! I don't fucking know, Bell."

I rub his back when his grip on me tightens as if he's afraid I'll let him go. I hate how I like it, how it turns me on because that's how he holds me just before he's ready to come, when right now he needs a best friend more than a fuck buddy.

"Kiss me, Bell." I shake my head, but he persists. "Kiss me, Bell."

"Eddie…wait."

"Please."

So I do because I don't think I can ever say no to him. He kisses me like he's lost. Like he's searching for something. Like he can't find whatever it is. And when he pulls away, his eyes glazed with that all too familiar lust, I see it. The sparkle. How it lights up his eyes, and I can only imagine this is how I look to Jake. Now I know what my ex feels like. To watch that glitter for another in the only one who will ever own your whole heart.

Because I know that sparkle isn't for me. It's for her. So I push him hard, ignoring his needy hands grabbing at my skin and the thin straps of my tank. I don't even feel it when one of them snaps or how his hands dip below to grab where I pucker for him. I run before I have to tell him no because I don't think I can, climbing down that ladder and across the sand, feeling his burning gaze all the way into my house.


	8. Sweeter Side of Lemonade

**Blister in the Sun Part 8**

**For PTB's Smut University 2014**  
**Prompt: The Sweeter Side of Lemonade**

**Note: If this sexiness seems familiar it's because it was from the Pre-Assignment. Our homework was to take an already written scene and soften it up a bit.**

* * *

I remember a time. Before all the fucking and hurting. Before all the secret smiles and hooded eyes. Before all the thrusting and sweating and tissues cleaning up messes splattered against my skin and the floor and the wall. When he smiled at me and whispered in my ear about how Rose had "fallen" for another guy. When he hugged me with just one arm, pulling me close enough to feel his heat but not his heart. When he grabbed at my ankles, opening his eyes under the water just because he I knows I hate to do it because—despite having grown up in the ocean—the salt burns my irises like no other.

Those were simpler times. When I secretly pined after his heart while acting like the best friend. No. Not acting. We were best friends…we are. At this point, I'm not even really sure if we're still fuck buddies. It hurts to think about what we used to be, my Eddie and me, and it's funny how this desire I've held inside for so long is now out and about and satiated every night that I'm not as happy as I thought I would be.

And even though I hate to admit it, I'm not happy because I may have his dick but I don't have his heart, and it sucks that he has mine whether or not he wants it.

I haven't gone back to the tree house. Not since I ran away after he practically begged for sex. I don't know how long ago it was. It seems like forever. It seems like yesterday. Hell…it could've been just hours and the twilight is actually the sun rising. The only thing I do know is that though the heat still persists, the waves are never ending, and the sand is always everywhere, summer is coming to an end.

School supplies are being bought. Clothes are being packed. And Mom can't look at me without tearing up. "I can't believe my baby will be moving away so soon."

College. It seemed so far away in June. Like there were too many parties, too many beers, to many illicit acts in secret hideaways on the beach to care that come August, we'd all really be leaving. Well, maybe not all of us. Like Tyler. He's staying. "I can't imagine moving away. The beach is my home."

Even so, we all know. It'll never be the same. Not after we all say goodbye. Some of us will come back. Some of us won't. And even if we all get back together again in the future, drinking beer on the beach for old times sake, it won't be like this. Carefree and youthful and anticipation for something that we don't quite understand yet.

Eddie and me. We're like all of this. Just on a much smaller scale. Well, according to my heart, it's so big it doesn't even compare to anything else. But I feel almost selfish whining over something so simple when our lives are just about to change forever. Yet I can't help myself. I can't help mourning how my best friend, my neighbor, that handsome boy next door and me is as changed as the water in the ocean.

To his credit, he's tried to catch me no matter how blatantly obvious I was at trying to avoid him. Every time I saw that sparkle of bronze from the sun in his hair, it would remind me of that sparkle that wasn't for me in his eyes and it would break my heart all over again. I ran that night and I've kept running. Even when he threw rocks at my window and called my cell phone a million times and yelled my name when I got too far, "Bella! Please!"

I ran.

So I don't know what is so different about this night. Maybe it's the tears in my friend's eyes. How the beer and the sun and now the bonfire and musty night air is making everyone remember that in just a few weeks we all would no longer have this.

"I can't believe you're going to be thousands of miles away from me!" Angela says, throwing her arms around my shoulders. "I'm going to miss you so much! But you have to promise to visit on the holidays."

Angela is another one that's staying. Not because of the beach or her parents or a home that she grew up in. No, she's staying because of Tyler. Because he doesn't want to leave and she doesn't want to leave him. It wasn't a surprise to anyone.

So yeah, maybe it was all these emotions that has me staying put when I see him advance. He meets my eyes, and for a moment, there's panic in all that green as he tries to push his way through the throngs of people. They stumble, grumbling at his back as he passes, but it's like he doesn't care. Like he has one mission in life and that is to make it to my side. So I stay and he almost falls to the sand at my feet in relief.

"Bell."

"Edward."

His eyes almost pain me with the sadness that buries itself so deep in them. "Can we talk?"

I nod my head and he grabs my hand like he's afraid I'll change my mind. The night is darker without the bonfire to light our way, but he doesn't stop, trekking his way across the sand with me trailing behind him, our connected hands the only reason why I'm still following. It's when I see the familiar alcove of rocks that I start digging my feet in. He wouldn't dare bring me there, would he?

"What's the matter?" he asks.

What's the matter? What's the fucking matter?! Him and Alice and discarded swimsuits with his tongue and fingers and finally his dick so slick in a place I'd rather not think about. Maybe it was hot at the time as I touched myself to him pleasuring another girl. But not anymore. Because now that I have him, even if only partially, I don't want to share our memories with those that have already passed.

"Not there."

"What?" He looks at the rocks like they hold this great mystery. Like he can't understand why I don't want to talk in a place where him and his ex-girlfriend fucked even if he doesn't know I know they did.

"Somewhere else, Edward."

"Fine." He leads us further down the beach where the shore slims down to just feet and the green stretches out toward the water. The bonfire is only a flicker in the night but even that is blocked by the leaves swallowing us into our own private hideaway.

He doesn't say anything at first, choosing to pace nervously in the sand instead. It makes me dizzy. His feet, I can barely see, dig a trench with his back and forth. So I yell, "Just spit it out!"

He stops, letting out one long breath. "I miss you, Bella."

I want to be spiteful and say I didn't miss him, but I can't lie to him. Not when I did. So. Fucking. Much. So I don't say anything at all.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I'm so sorry."

I don't know what he's supposed to be sorry about, and it makes me hate myself even more because he didn't do anything. He may have broken my heart, but that wasn't really his fault. I was the one who took of advantage of his failed relationship with Alice. He asked for the sex, but I could have said no. Like a good best friend would have. But I wanted this so much that I said yes instead.

"Stop."

"No! I miss you. I want you in my life. I need you in my life. You can avoid me all you want Isabella Marie Swan, but you're stuck with me…forever." I hate how my heart skips a beat because I just know that his forever is completely different from my forever.

"Did you love Alice?" He looks taken back, and I guess so am I because the words just came out of nowhere.

"Yes…" he says quietly.

"Do you still love her?"

"…I don't know," he says even quieter.

And because this seems like a moment to say whatever the fuck is on my mind, a moment for last chances before everything changes, I open my mouth again and say, "I love you."

He doesn't say anything this time. I didn't think he would. This isn't the first time I've said those three little words to him, but we both know that this time I meant something completely different.

And because the summer is almost over, because I'm about to lose the boy I love, because I've drunk too much and had more than my fair share of sun, I step forward, ignoring his wide, surprised eyes, and kiss him. Just a small peck. Laying my hand on his chest for balance as I raise up onto my tiptoes and kiss him quick enough where I'm not even sure I felt his lips on mine.

But then he's stepping forward, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me so close and kissing me for real. Soft lips and soft tongues and soft breathes that I can't help winding my fingers through his hair and dragging him closer, wishing that he'll never stop. It's when he's tugged us to our knees in the sand, his fingers dancing along the elastic of my swimsuit bottom that he pulls away.

"Bella," he says, but I hear what he really means. What he's really saying. "Are you sure?"

So I kiss him again, using those quick brushes across his flesh as the words stuck in my throat.. On his lips. "I want you."

Across his cheek. "Please don't stop."

Down his neck. "I love you."

He sweeps me into his arms, those muscles cradling me so close as he brings his lips to mine again, laying me slowly onto the sand. He's gentle as he slips the only barrier between me and him from my body even as I'm quick in removing his shorts lying low on his hips. And when he brushes those lips of his down my skin I can't help but think that maybe he has words of his own that he can't say but I hate to delude myself like that.

So I ask him for more. "Please, Eddie, please. I need it. I need you."

He plants his hips between my legs, pulling my ankles up to cross behind his back and then he's pushing forward. Slowly as if he's missed this. As if he can't believe he's back where he belongs after so long. Right here. With me.

And when he's as deep as he can go, he stops, laying his body against mine, so that we're skin to skin everywhere we can be. He's breathing hard, trembling in my arms, as I stroke his back, his arms, his sunburned neck. When I can't take anymore of the stillness, I whisper so quietly into his ear, "Let go, Eddie. Just let go."

He does on a sigh. Pulling out and pushing in again. Slow at first. Like he can't do anything else, but when the pressure becomes too much, when the bomb inside the both of us starts its ticking, he goes faster. Racing toward that end. Wanting to finish. Wanting to it to last…forever.

I arch my neck, loving how his breath feels across my skin. "Eddie."

He groans, his body tightening as his thrusts grows infinitesimally faster. "Bella. Bella. Bella."

It's like all of my dreams have come true so that when he hooks my knees over his elbows I fall, explode, detonate after the countdown of each of his thrusts. Buried into the sand. Muffled by all the grit in my mouth. My only reminder that I'm still whole and on this earth are the waves lapping at my feet. But uncaring to anything going around as he presses deeper and harder and faster. The air is hot. The sand is still warm. Our skin is slick with sweat that it's hard to hold onto him when he arches his back, his face thrown toward the stars as he spills himself into me.

And though I'm not worried because I've been protected since I was thirteen, I'm not even miffed that he didn't ask because our days are limited and I think I'd take anything he has to offer.

It's that same reason that I say again, "I love you."

When I really mean, "Do you love me too?"

He understands because he shakes his head. And it's less of a "no" and more of a "I don't know. I just don't know anything."

I hate the hope that blooms in my heart because in just a few weeks when the summer ends I'll be saying goodbye to this boy that I love without ever really knowing if he loves me back.


End file.
